


Gimme Shelter

by theladyscribe



Category: Hockey RPF, Women's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, F/M, Implied/Referenced Incest, Nightmares, Pittsburgh Penguins, emotional incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 06:26:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7703956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/pseuds/theladyscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."</p><p>Sidney's words stop Taylor cold, and she turns to Nate. "Babe, you'll have to excuse us."</p><p>Or, the Wincest AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gimme Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> There is implied incest, but nothing graphic in this story. There is also an off-screen character death, which shouldn't be a surprise considering the source text for the AU.
> 
> Title is from the song by the Rolling Stones.

"Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."

Sidney's words stop Taylor cold, and she turns to Nate. "Babe, you'll have to excuse us."

*

She doesn't sleep. When she lies down and closes her eyes, she sees Nate, pinned to the ceiling, gasping for breath or warning her away or trying to scream.

Sidney knows, she can see it in his eyes, but he doesn't say anything when she falls asleep in the passenger seat instead of reading the morning paper for strange news from three counties over.

When they stop for the night, Sidney turns on the television and puts his feet up, casual. He'll be out in minutes, and Taylor will stay up, sitting vigil, for her brother's protection.

*

There's a voicemail on her phone, left sometime in the three days between Sidney's arrival in San Diego and the fire.

 _Dr. Sajic was asking about you in class today_. Nate's voice sounds so calm, so clear, so present. _He wanted to remind you that more than three absences is an automatic failure. I emailed you the leave of absence forms just in case. I hope your dad's okay. Let me know if you need anything. Love you._

The message ends. Taylor hits repeat.

*

She's forgotten what the road is like, the long slow hum of miles between jobs, Sidney next to her, humming tunelessly along to the radio. The last rumor of Dad's whereabouts was a dead end, as was the rumor before that. And the one before that. And…

Taylor hasn't said it out loud yet, but she's starting to think Dad is already dead.

*

There's a rawhead in Poughkeepsie, and Sidney nearly dies.

Taylor calls the last known number they have for Dad, and screams into the voicemail that he's abandoned them for his stupid fucking revenge, left his children to die while he's on a useless crusade to find the thing that killed Mom. She tells him that she hates him, that he's cost Sidney and their mother and Nate their lives, that she hopes he is dead. She tells him that if he's not, he'd better never let her find him, because she'll kill him herself.

She screams and screams and screams until her throat is raw, the recorder long cut off.

When she goes back inside the hospital, Sidney's eyes flutter open.

"Hey," he sighs. "Why the long face?"

Taylor can feel hot tears of relief welling. She wipes at her eyes and comes to sit by the bed.

"I thought you were gone," she whispers, voice in shards. "I thought you'd left me, too."

Sidney draws a long breath and settles a hand in Taylor's hair.

"Hey," he says again, "I'm not going anywhere."

*

There's a voicemail on Sidney's phone, a call from Dad, leaving them coordinates for a job in Tulsa. Taylor doesn't want to go, wants their bastard of a father to go fuck himself, to leave them alone so they can forget this stupid quest for vengeance. She wants to drop it, to run off somewhere she and Sidney will be safe, out of harm's way, as far away from both Dad and the things that go bump in the night as possible.

She wants Sidney to heal up before they go anywhere at all, but Sidney insists.

"Our job is to help people," he says, sounding so much like Dad that Taylor wants to throw up. "Saving people, protecting them, it's what we do."

 _Because no one was there to protect us_ , he doesn't say, though Taylor hears it just the same.

*

The job in Tulsa is bad.

It's a demonic possession, the woman's eyes glittering black as the demon wreaks havoc on the city for no reason save that it can. The demon has no concern for the body it fills, using the woman to do impossible things, keeping her body alive simply for its own amusement.

By the time they are able to capture the demon and send it back to the Hell it came from, the woman's bones are broken and her lungs are filled with blood.

Taylor and Sidney are helpless, only able to stay with her as she dies.

They salt and burn the woman's body and go back to their hotel smelling of char and smoke.

Taylor takes first shower, turning the water as hot as it will go, scrubbing at her skin until she's pink and raw. She hopes Sidney didn't hear what the demon said to her when she notched the final loop of their trap, that the deaths that seem to follow her are her fault. Mom, Nate… she'll be the death of Sidney someday too.

It makes her shiver, and she scrubs at her skin some more.

*

She dreams that night of waking to see Sidney above her, pinned to the ceiling and gasping for breath, warning her away, trying to scream.

Taylor wakes up with a gasp, her eyes flying open, the adrenaline making her heart pound. She sits up and turns to see Sidney, sprawled on his stomach in the other bed, fast asleep.

She lies back down, but sleep doesn't come.

*

The next night, Taylor has the same nightmare, and she gasps awake to see Sidney above her, a gentle hand on her cheek and a frown on his face.

"You were screaming," he says. "You were shouting my name."

"Sorry," Taylor says, her voice raw. She tries to turn away, but Sidney doesn't let her go.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay."

He lets her turn now, but instead of going back to his own bed, he lies down beside her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. Taylor should shift away, move out of his embrace, but Sidney is warm and strong at her back. She lets her eyes drift close.

She sleeps soundly for the first time in weeks.

*

For five nights, Taylor gasps awake, and Sidney climbs into her bed afterward, letting her tremble in his arms before she falls asleep. On the sixth night, he wordlessly climbs into bed after her, eyeing her like he's awaiting a rejection.

She doesn't tell him not to, just reaches across him to turn out the lights.

There's a frisson of energy between them, a dangerous electricity that Taylor doesn't dare investigate. She lies down on her half of the bed, waiting.

Sidney tilts toward her, but he doesn't say anything and doesn't try to pull her closer.

She supposes that's a good thing.

*

Their life is a routine: Sidney pinpoints a job, Taylor finds a route to it, they hunt and kill the things that go bump in the night, and Sidney slips into Taylor's bed to keep the nightmares at bay. Sometimes she wakes up to find Sidney wrapped around her. Once, he's close enough that she can feel his morning wood snug against her ass. She shifts, and he stirs, pulling away quickly, as if burned.

They don't talk about it; that's another part of the routine.

It doesn't stop Taylor from thinking about it, though. Doesn't stop her from wondering what might happen if she rolled over and took Sidney in hand, or kissed him, or slid down the bed and took his cock in her mouth.

She wonders if he'd let her, or if Sidney would push her away, maybe send her back to California, to be haunted by her memories of Nate. To be haunted by the memories of Sidney wrapped around her, keeping her safe.

*

There's another possession in Beaver Dam, Wisconsin. Sidney is the one alone with the demon this time, and Taylor can tell by the look on his face that it talked. Sidney is pale and withdrawn when they get back to the hotel, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn't climb into Taylor's bed.

They lie in their beds, the tension in the room as palpable as the presence of a ghost, but neither of them say anything. There isn't much to say. Demons talk, using words to twist hooks into a person and tug until you're twisted inside-out. But the thing with demons is that they only ever tell you the truth.

When Taylor can't bear the crushing weight of the room anymore, she sits up and peers toward her brother. Sidney is still awake — she can tell by the way he holds himself a little too carefully.

Taylor should lie back down, try to get some rest, but she fixes her eyes on Sidney's face, caught in a sliver of light coming in from the window. He's frowning, in concern or consternation, it's hard to tell. There's tightness around his eyes, as if he's willing them to stay shut. His cheekbones are cast in relief, sharp as glass. He looks like a statue cut from marble.

Taylor slips out of her bed and into his, and Sidney goes perfectly still, save for the rapidity of his breathing. There isn't much space between him and the edge of the bed, so she lies on her side and wraps an arm around him.

She expects him to pull away, maybe to even get up and switch beds, but he turns and tugs her closer, away from the edge of the bed. Sidney clings to her, and Taylor clings back. They've never needed words before, and they don't need them now, the cloying tension seeping away as they hold each other close.

It isn't long before they're both asleep.


End file.
